Musings of a Jester
by Thingy Person
Summary: Bastian gives us a first person view on his travels through Daein. FE10, spoilers. Slight AU
1. The Premise

_**Author's note: **My first fanfiction. I figure I'd start off with a bit of comedy, devoted to Crimea's favourite linguistic miscarriage: Bastian! This story is in first person and in present tense to make it as real-time as possible. I didn't have a lot for reference, so I'm sorry if it turned out horrible. Please review, obviously_

**Warning: **RD spoilers, wall of text, frivolous vocabulary.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fire Emblem, any of its characters or Bastian's curly beard.

* * *

This untimely rain is wearing out my good humour. I was fortunate enough to find shelter when it came, but what have I misconducted to deserve crawling around in this filthy, atrocious _mud_? I say, this accursed substance has foiled my pantaloons! At least I have been keen enough to travel on horseback.

Where was I? Ah, yes. I find myself in Daein for a mission dedicated to the well-being of Crimea. And this "I" is, of course, none other than the noble Bastian, count of Fayre, the greatest tactical mind in all of Crimea and the scurvy brigand who stole dear Lucia's heart! Once again, Crimea has evoked me to carry out a mission of great importance: investigate the carbonized remains of Nados Castle, and pry out the diseased Black Knight! Thankfully, this arduous task has already been completed. Bastian will not falter, through fair or stormy weather (in this case, the latter). However, the unsettling results of my investigation have caused me to prolong my escapade, for I did not find the enigmatic rider at all! This is not an error on my part, nor did my trusty shovel fail me. Why, if anything, this piece of information is most vital and will be greatly commended upon reception! It is merely the unsettling nature of my findings that cause this dilemma, for I could not bear to see lady Lucia's fightened reaction when I tell her that the Black Knight, her greatest fear whom I have guarded her from so dilligently, is still active! That's why I must have good news to tell first. Do you comprehend this dire matter, oh noble Bastian? You do? Then chin up, spirits high, and continue onward! Your loved ones are counting on you!

It has been three years since Daein's sorrowful defeat at the hands of the greatest general of modern times, which is of course me, Bastian. Alas, Daein's new purpose was not mine to decide, and now Begnion watches over her. Lack of resources, they said. How flustering! Due to Crimea's prudeness, a kingdom of former days suffers helplessly at the hands of a corrupt empire! It falls upon men of great stature such as myself to help those in need. Had they put me in charge of Daein's reconstruction, none of the current misery would stain Tellius' graceful visage. There's enough Bastian for everyone!

But I digress. My objective is to pursue knowledge regarding Daein's possible liberation. Rumors of Daein's dire condition and its impending salvation are well-known to the Crimean nobles. These two-faced men see fit to harass our poor queen with accusations of treason! They imply that Daein will rise again and fear a new invasion, yet queen Elincia refuses to condemn the new Daein until more information is made available. Ah, the mark of a great monarch. I will gladly assist her in this predicament. Gossips detailing the liberation army reached my ears as I traveled the land. These rumors are growing more vivid the more I approach the capital. The best method to find this army is to cling onto the fickle threads of hearsay until this goose chase leads me into their camp. No, Bastian...stay positive!

Well, that concludes my revision. Now there is nothing to distract me from the bitter cold, the stench of horse and my increasingly painful scrotum.

* * *

_Note that English isn't my first language. Dictionary for the win._


	2. Tome Paladin

_**Author: **Bastian bemoans his choice of expertise. Now with 26 percent more old English!_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fire Emblem, its characters, or Bastian's oversized cape.

* * *

My my, boredom certainly has a knack for smiting one's standards. She turns respectable individuals into infantile nitwits who snicker at the merest form of entertainment! Appearances aside, regression can be very fun indeed. I only hope some pilgrim doesn't recognize me as I do this.

ZAP! And there she goes! Oh, the sensation, the ardour...how I LOVE lightning magic, even in an action so provincial as shooting off darts of yellow in random directions. If only those academic hobby-horses hadn't convinced me otherwise... "An inferior form of magic" they condemned it to be, urging me to profess in fire magic instead. After all, only _fire_ would transcend my passion for life, no?

ZAP! I trow not!

Of all disciplines of magic currently being practiced, none is more stale, laborous and fatigued than fire magic. And yet it is besought by aspiring youths across Tellius! One has only to draw a thunder tome from a shelf in an average bibliothequary to be critisized for not utilising a more contemporary art. Well, poo on you, kind sir. Why? Because fire never leaves the ground! Is it not ghastly to be incarcerated so, for the sake of a touch more Might, while thunder can grant the freedom and glamour of the noble performer?

ZAP! Oh, a critical. How it shimmers!

But I digress. Days of yore have no importance. With each draught of breath, I thank the godess for granting me this wisdom when I required it most. Imagine this oath being one of lament! Oh, the horror. Wind is a fair substitute indeed. Though it matches thunder nevermore, I am proud still that I may rely on it in the most dire of circumstances, that I may shoulder this wealdy green mantle! A creature of gales may not amaze the populace with bolts of vibrant yellow, but it is free to venture and leave serenity in its wake...though lightning shall ever be my guilty pleasure.

Despite my inherit deficience to tread into the highest circles of lightning magic, I will stay true to my principles evermore. Why, for naught shall I bequeath my passion! ZAP!

Oops, I believe I have just incinerated a tree. That concludes the last of my old teacher's decrees I tried not to violate. "Be wary of thine surroundings whilst thou casteth for relief, lest thou woefully bemoan thine spine!"

On the other hand...being able to strike a tree from atop a horse testifies of some potential...perhaps I am actually class of my own?!

...pah. This activity is tainting my inner cranium.

* * *

_Poo on you, bemoan thine spine. I'm a born poet._


	3. Relevation

_**Author: **First dialogue. I'm torn between having a line betwixt speech or not. Also wondering how I do question marks before an apostrophe. I was going to devote this chapter to Bastian's curly shoes, but I'll keep that one for later. Also, wtfpraise._

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fire Emblem, its characters, or Nolan's godly beard.

* * *

Fortune has smiled upon me! While I sojourned in a local tavern, the barkeeper enlightened me about the liberators' whereabouts. "You've got a fine beard", he said. "Kinda like that guy in the army." Who else could match my facial hair other than the stout Tauroneo, Lance Gentleman and patron to the greatest mustache of Daein? In a great feat of negotiation, I managed to convince the barkeeper to direct me toward their camp, for the mere sum of 23000 gold. Fine job, I say!

Huzzah! I can see the tents already, like fallen blossoms after a spring rain. As I approach the camp, I ride towards good news. And of course it is good news, for a cause lead by such a fine-groomed character must be just! No more wallowing in my own thoughts, for my quest shall expire anon! I shall see to it that I obtain a pass-time for the journey back. Now then, where were we? Ah yes, the white-clad general. A group of onlookers assembles to behold my magnificent posture.

"Who are you?", asks a man with a gruff voice.

"I am Count Fayre, an emissary from the Kingdom of Crimea!"

The masses are rendered speechless, save for a collective gasp of amazement. The crowd goes wild!

"What is your business here", asks a man of presumably higher hierarchy.

"I shall spare you the petty details, though I must see your commander."

"Go away! We owe nothing to you Crimean pigs!"

What is...? Has my reputation not preceded me? No matter. My charm shall conquer all!

A hesistant voice resounds from behind me. "...Bastian? Is that you?"

I turn to this person to see wether I can recognize this fan of mine... Blimey, it is none other than Sothe, the splendid rogue I met three years past! A maiden with curious silver hair stands beside him. "Sothe, you know this rider?"

"Yeah, a Crimean noble. Don't mind his speech, he's a few arrows short of a quiver."

What a devoted fan, to praise my distinguishing speech patterns for all to hear! "Well met, maiden! However, I fear introductions will have to be postponed." My eyes wander. What a vexing assembly of warriors, not unlike the days of yore! I see a priest, a girl encased with armour, and-

_Forgive me, our lord and saviour, for I am unworthy of breathing within thine magnificent presence!_

"Bastian? Are you alright?"

"Hmm? Whot?" Oh dear, I phazed out for a moment there. A face so splendid caught my attention that I was drawn into a fit of pure bliss. That mesmerizing beard...on a visage so mundane! "I-I am quite alright, thank you. I must speak with General Tauroneo post-haste."

The onlookers exchange looks, until all are focused on an unimposing green-haired man clad in black armour. "Are you _serious?_", he retorts. "Oh fine, I'll go get him."

* * *

_I...have nothing else to say._


	4. Stache of Legends

_**Author: **Tauroneo's debut. I hope he was IC. I'm not using words like "Dost" or "Thine" for Bastian as words like that will suffocate the conversation. And it's a bit late to begin doing that anyway._

**Diclaimer: **I do not own Fire Emblem, any of its characters, or Meg's awkward drawing style.

* * *

I dismount from my steed as a familiar voice reaches my ears.

"I was in a war meeting! What stuck-up emissary thinks he has the right to-"

He glances at me as he ventures in sight.

"Count Fayre!"

"Bastian will suffice, my finely 'stached friend!"

The general assumes a vexed gaze, but recomposes after a few blinks. "What brings you to Daein, count?"

"A very delicate matter, though now I am reassured by your vibrant mustache."

The general gives me a _very_ confused look... "With all due respect, Bastian, but have you come all the way from Crimea to compliment my _facial hair?"_

Ah, so humble about his optic splendor. A great general indeed! "Alas, my white-clad comrade. Splendid though your ashen curls may be, my visit is one of political intentions!"

He snaps out of his confusion with a little effort. "How can we be of service,_ Comrade_? Does Crimea offer to send troops? Or does she stand against Daein's liberation?"

"It is something in betwixt, I believe. The Queen is uncertain of Daein's alignment to come, thus my voyage is one of reconnaissance."

"You're being very open for a man on reconnaissance."

Blast, he's right! I must change my approach. "I jest, of course. I merely wished to praise your splendid mustache!"

The general lifts a palm to his forehead.

"Anon, do I apprehend correctly that you command this legion?"

"No, our commander is right over there."

Hmm? My eyes wander to meet up with the general's gesture. Again, what a fine company of- ACK!

Good lord, for a moment there, I thought that girl had a mustache. It was the shape of her mouth that confused me.

Now, to whom is he gesticulating? Sothe? Ah, I see; the maiden with the argentine hair!

"Greetings, my name is Bastian of Crimea. Surely you know me; do you not recognize my placid posture, brilliant beard and my sensibility for fashion?"

Sothe slumped. "Oh lord..." Hah! Even among rogues am I renowned as a lord.

The maiden speaks. "Yes, I've heard certain things about you." She glances downward to gander at my excquisite foot-wear. She looks up to face me again, now with a look of bemusement. "My name is Micaiah. While I am the commander of this army, treat me no different than you would a normal soldier."

"Ah, you consider yourself as one of your people! One of many grand mindsets rarely found in a ruler..."

"Actually, I'm not the one you're looking for. Daein has a rightful heir."

"So the rumours were true! May I request an audience with the soon-to-be king?"

Sothe replied. "He's in that tent, but they're reading him a bed-time story right now."

"_Sothe!"

* * *

_Guided by Tauroneo, I find myself at the tent where the lost heir is said to reside.

"O word of advice", says the wise Tauroneo. "Keep your dissipations in check. He's a bit timid when meeting new people."

I enter, and find a young man with blue hair and a sizeable lady dressed in black.

"Greetings, one and all!" The two characters jump in shock. "Congratulations, fine lad! Know that you have my full support in leading Daein to its age of rebirth!"

They stare at me, blankly.

"Do not speak; I know what troubles you. But fear not! Leadership is a trade one masters through experience."

"...mother?" "Yes, dear?" "Please make this man go away."

"Ah, how rude of me. My name is Basti-mmmph!"

I beg to differ? Why is Tauroneo hindering my speech?!

"Pay him no mind, he's just a traveling performer." And with that, he drags me outside!

* * *

Blegh, I don't like this one. Good thing it's monologues again from now on.


	5. Victory and Defeat

_**Author: **I'm rushing the timeline a bit as I've used all my Daein-related ideas. This is the last of Bastian's monologues, so I included what is possibly his greatest revelation to come, as well as a homeage to one of the revered Elder Gods of Tellius. Some things may be hard to understand, even if you've read Calill Explains. Also, crazy structuring ahead.

* * *

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Fire Emblem, any of its characters, or Bastian's curly shoes.

Now that I reflect upon my audience with the King, I must admit that my display of mediatory prowess was...lacking. No matter! Such an innocent figure cannot possibly live up to his diseased father. Not a chance! Unless I have somehow traumatised the prodigy with my grand entrance, my homecoming is sure to be filled with happiness and good news all around. Good work, Bastian! I didn't doubt you for a second.

Conversely, it appears I have completely forgotten to bring an object of some entertaining value with me. Now I am once again left at the mercy of musings... I know my thunder tome inside out, and godess smite me if I grow so mad as to begin reading in that detestable fire booklet. What is fire good for? Harassing innocent Gallians, that's what!

Alas, the thunder tome I had with me is near breaking as a result of my environmental misconducts earlier. The spirit within is soon to burst free... It would seem I must utilise my keen Arch Sage powers to preserve it! But how? To translift a spirit from its housing while preserving it requires a secondary item capable of housing it. There seems to be no object of high spiritual value in my immediate vicinity... No, don't even mention the vile fire tome! Such a noble Thunder spirit deserves a more lofty confinement. Hmm...perhaps I should counsel...my vestiments! What better oppurtunity to immortalize my passion for lightning than to implement it in a section of my noble attire? Fortunately, I just happen to be dressed optimally, as a true gentleman should be when visiting another gentleman's household. My mandibles are sheathed with most exquisite gloves, though there is nothing extroardinary about them otherwise. I must reach deeper...more exalted! My mantle? Exalted! Sublime! Crafted by the finest court tailor in Crimea! Yes, I remember that day as if it had transpired mere seconds ago... Despite the fact that I sealed my fate as a wind mage rather than a thunder specialist, a mistake I regret to this day, that moment held naught but glory. My graduation... Ah, how hastily pass the fleeting days! And as I stood by the altar, and the elders acknowledged the fruit of my studies, I received this monumental piece of craftsmanship to drape around my torso and show the world that I am a...wind magician. As said before, the euforia may now be overshadowed by regret, but in days long past, it was blissful nontheless. Alas, I fear I have debunked my own suggestion. An ornament devoted to the honour of Gales shan't have its purpose unrooted. But what other object is there to-

By the godess...there is another possibility. In my posession is said to reside the deadliest weapon in Tellius, stained with the blood of thousands and infused with the weeping souls of the many innocent victims it's claimed...

...my shoes.

To this day, the origin of my shoes remains unclear, and so are my memories of it. I believe to have purchased it from a mysterious cobbler (a _demon_ cobbler, he said!) in Melior. Wether its alteration of owner occurred due to otherworldly powers or my own naïvété, that I do not know. But I realise now that they are the only plausible bearers for my treasured spirit. Why, you ask, oh noble Bastian who is myself? Because if what the (in this case, demon) cobbler claimed was the very verity, my foot-wear is more than a suitable host. But if what the (in this case, phoney demon) cobbler said was nonsense... There is no weapon more lethal than the foundation of simultaneously avarice, envy and decadence: the small-time scam. Only now do I realise that I have the miseries of the world draped around my feet. It is as if by purchasing these shoes that I have closed a pact with Mephisto! Why, the very idea of wearing them makes me curl my lips in disgust! I would like to do nothing more than peel them off and feed them to the demons that have created it...but I cannot greet Lucia on bare feet! How ungentlemanlike. That is why I must exorcise the evil within my shoes by enhancing them with a spirit. It's settled then! No more hesistation. The deed must be done.

....

ngh....  
..haa...hahaha...  
...yes...only a bit more...  
Huzzah!

It...it's a miracle! I've never felt this good! The power...the splendor! Nothing can match this. By the godess, I'm shooting lightning from my feet!!

I AM BASTIAN THUNDERTOES, REVEL BEFORE MY SUBLIME DEVIATION.

Why have I never thought of this? Why, if I were to purchase a monocle and infuse a spirit into it, then I'd _really_ be able to overpower enemies in the blink of an eye! Haha, Bastian is a gentleman _and_ a comedian. Perhaps General Tauroneo and my dear friend Makalov were right after all!

But I am getting in over my head. I will arrive at the queen anon! The watchmen recognize me (how could they not?) and I quickly make my way to the royal chamber...ah! The doors! How splendidly they are pushed asunder. Oh, and the queen! She starts at the sight of me. She commences sprinting towards me to greet me accordingly. What a glorious gift to be received with such esteem...

"Oh, Bastian! Lucia's been kidnapped!"

...

"Bastian?"

Murder! Bloody murder! The greatest evils have just been redifined. A man so intrepid as to abduct fair Lucia...why, it is nearly unthinkable! All sins conceived by man up this insidious crime are overshadowed. Why, let's hope for the godess' sake that I may never stand toe-to-toe with this man, lest mine infused toes maim his, as well as many other acts of discourtecy! Oh, the possibilities are endless...Why, I should-

"Bastian, stop it! You're thinking out loud."

I am? _Out loud_?

Curses.

* * *

_A couple of notes._

_-"Translift" is not a real word. Some people like mixing stand-alone verbs up with existing prefixes, thereby creating new, bullshit words, to sound smart._

_-I owe the Demon Cobbler story to someone else._

_-While there is no Mephisto in Tellian theology, I just didn't feel like saying "A pact with Yune". She doesn't like it when people do that._

_-Bastian with lazer vision would be the hottest shit since sliced bread. Seriously._

_-Another bit of the timeline goes to hell as Elincia is supposed to be in Fort Alpea by the time Lucia gets kidnapped. I couldn't care less though._


End file.
